


Not your type (but I can make you sway)

by withered



Series: Roses [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: College, Crime Families, F/M, Gangs, Gangster Ichigo, Ichigo's POV, Romance, Rukia's POV, Snobby Rukia, meet ugly, still mean to Inoue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 15:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12390732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withered/pseuds/withered
Summary: 1, Kuchiki Rukia is a graduate of a fancypants All Girls Boarding School for Scheming Rich Girls, and she will not be put off kilter by some boy.2. "Yeah," she sighed, before winking. "Nothing more romantic than a boy using Shakespeare to talk about sex." And he fought the urge to smirk wider because damn it, this girl really does have him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reference: "What are the chances we're both serial killers?" from How I Met Your Mother  
> Title inspired by "If I never see you again" by Maroon 5 ft Rihanna
> 
> These entries can also be found on ffn under "Roses by another name" entry 1 and entry 4.

 

 **Prompt:** College/Gangs AU

.

Rukia has no time for normal.

She's inherited a shady family empire upon her graduation from boarding school, and her stoic older brother pulls no punches about the reality of it. It's something she appreciates after so many years of being in the dark about how exactly the Kuchiki name stayed so prominent over the years.

So she studies under a name that isn't Kuchiki and she does everything in her power to lay low – to learn what she can about what she needs to – the dog eat dog world of finance, business, and politics; something that  _surprisingly_ her fancypants All Girls Boarding School for Scheming Rich Girls did not cover. Until she's ready until she can be the heir and right hand her brother needs her to be.

She has no time for normal things like making friends or falling in love, but inevitably, both happen.

Rangiku is a pain in the ass, but she's Rukia's pain in the ass. And honestly, the rowdiness of the Rukongai apartment complex just off West campus was a definite culture shock to what she was used to, something her brother showed little sympathy for (the bastard). Yet somehow Rangiku kept a strange, almost refined control of the chaos in the building. As for Nanao, she really is the only sane one besides Rukia herself, and what else was Rukia supposed to do when she found out that Nanao was in almost all her classes at the university anyway?

As for the love part, that's a bit more complicated because Rukia had relied almost entirely on her lack of sex appeal and her too-good-for-you nose-in-the-air act that her fancypants All Girls Boarding School for Scheming Rich Girls  _did_  cover which would usually deter normal guys.

Unfortunately, Kurosaki Ichigo was not a normal guy.

The first time they met was definitely no fairy tale. Not by a longshot. He didn't pull up in some horse-drawn carriage, and she wasn't decked out in some enchanted dress.

In fact, he was bleeding behind the Starbucks a block away from the Rukongai, and she was wearing sweatpants that she wasn't sure were clean, yesterday's makeup, and an Americano she didn't want but  _needed because mid-terms are coming and Jesus, why does it feel like she didn't know anything after half a year_ –

And her response to finding him there – looking valiantly like he wasn't in pain and holding his bleeding side with an equally bloody hand, was, "I thought I looked like hell."

To her credit, Bleeding Guy's reply wasn't any better: "You're fucking loud, you know that?"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware indoor voices were required in back alleys," she returned.

He snorted, and she backtracked on the bitchiness because  _dude is bleeding_ , and asked, "Do you need help?"

Huffing through his nose, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed in suspicion, she can practically hear his refusal ringing around in his head so she stooped down to his level and offered a hand. "No hospitals, I'm guessing?"

His eyes are amber, and they glint like a cat's, and she should be concerned and wary and run away right now because – you shouldn't talk to strangers, least of all strangers you meet bleeding in alleys – but her instincts are top notch, and there'd be no harm in being a good Samaritan. She added, waving her offered hand impatiently, "Hurry up, my coffee's getting cold."

"Why are you helping me; I could be a serial killer for all you know."

She considered him for all of four seconds before she shrugged. "Maybe, but what are the chances we're both serial killers?"

And that's the line that gets him because two minutes later, he has his arm over her shoulders and her arm around his waist supporting him as they hobble towards her apartment.

With it being four in the afternoon, the Rukongai was unusually quiet.

Everyone was still nursing hangovers from Rangiku's latest party which  _coincidentally_ coincided with Rukia visiting her brother in the city, and the after-effects  _just happening_ to result in a quiet environment for her to study in upon her return. (Rukia couldn't help but chuckle at Rangiku's incessant winks and nudges of  _"Get it?"_  when she told her of the initial plan, and lamenting how,  _"You won't be there to see the fun part, but you'll thank me, you'll see."_ )

The apartment is mercifully clean when they enter, though small and sparse of anything to give Bleeding Guy too much of an idea about who she was, even as she dumped him on the couch and went to the kitchenette to grab the First Aid kit.

His hair is bright and juvenile, and that was what she focused on instead of all the blood and – "Don't worry, most of it isn't mine."

Her hands shook a little, but her fancypants All Girls Boarding School for Scheming Rich Girls were filled with people who talked a load of shit just to get a reaction. Maintaining a neutral expression, she asked, "Who the hell did you piss off?"

He bared his teeth, caught between a grimace and a grin. "You should see the other guy."

He looked so weirdly proud that it was her turn to snort. "You're such a cliché."

Gaze only flickering briefly into hers, but making her feel exposed, all the same, he observed, "You're something."

She found out a few hours after he left that Rangiku, half dead herself by her own doing, still knew everything that went on in the building and – "I did not K.O everyone for you to get laid," she scolded. "Not that I wouldn't, but I like to know in advance, you know; full disclosure, total honesty."

"There's nothing, I didn't get laid."

"Obviously," the busty woman waved off, "you're way too grouchy and confused. What's going on?"

"Nothing," she lied, and at least that was something she was good at, but Rangiku was annoyingly persistent.

"Then who was that guy?"

Drying the coffee cups that they had used after she had cleaned up the stab wound that had grazed his rib (grazed! he really hadn't been lying that the majority of the blood wasn't his) and putting it back in the cupboard, right next to the First Aid kit she needed to restock. "I assume you know him."

"I do, but I want to hear the words from you."

"I found him in an alley, he was hurt, I thought he could use some help."

Shaking her head with a laugh, Rangiku amended, "So you took him in like a stray kitten?"

"Not exactly."

"Trust me, hun," she said, patting her arm, "He doesn't need the help. I'm sure one of his men would have come and gotten him."

"What?"

Her jaw hung slightly ajar at the admission, and because she had a flair for the dramatics, Rangiku's hands flew up to frame her cheeks. "Oh, so you really don't know him?" At her silence, her companion declared, "You're so dense! Everyone knows him, Kurosaki, ring any bells?" Her blank look answered the question, and with a long-suffering sigh, Rangiku tried again, "How about Shiba?"

Rukia's eyes widened. "Like, the crime family, Shiba?"

"The one and only," she said with some pride. "Word is that Ichigo's extending territory, making the old guys around here antsy, you know how it is."

She did, her family was one of those _old guys_ , and she bit back a curse. That was exactly what she didn't have time for, and she resolved to stick to the plan – stay low and out of the way. Any interaction with Kurosaki Ichigo would just be an inconvenience, something he apparently loved being because three days later, he showed up in her class.

Everyone noticed, of course, because apparently people have been noticing him for ages and she had been laying so low the only thing she'd been seeing were the words in her textbooks.

Nanao was filled with warnings after as they sat across from one another in the library, "You've heard about him, then?"

"I have," she eventually replied, jaw clenched against the onslaught of his gaze burning into her back.

Her brother had agreed that having her own security detail would be counterintuitive in her quest in being invisible but she knew there were at least one of his men watching her, and so she had gotten him to give her intel on one  _Kurosaki Ichigo_.

Renji had delivered. Everything from surveillance of his dodgy dealings, to fights he was involved in, to businesses that went under or rose to prominence under his control as his influence grew.

Renji had side-eyed her hard.

" _You need to tell your brother."_

" _And what will that do? Make him pull me out of uni?"_

" _No, but he should know. He could do something."_

" _Like what?"_

"… _I don't know_."

"What are you going to do?" Nanao asked for what felt like the third time that morning.

Sighing in frustration, Rukia asked, brow arching sharply, "Can I do something about it?"

Her companion shrugged, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "If you do, I'd love to know. This is a lot more entertainment than I gave you credit for."

She snorted it's _going to stay that way._  "Whatever it is that he wants he won't get it from me."

"Is that so?"

Nanao coughed.

And, though Rukia felt like she was being drained of all the colour in her face and going blood red at the same time, she remained composed because she's Kuchiki Rukia, damn it. She did not survive heiress etiquette classes and her fancypants All Girls Boarding School for Scheming Rich Girls to be sent off-kilter by  _some boy_.

Tilting her head to take him in, one hand in the pocket of his pants and the other rested on the table right beside the textbook she was trying to absorb through osmosis, he was a combination of suave and dangerous.

To his credit, he didn't look like some gang banger. His bright orange hair was about the only thing that screamed delinquent, but the rest of him was all tanned, toned, lean muscle and chiselled jawline. He didn't walk around in baggy pants accented with chains; he had suit trousers on, for goodness' sake. He wasn't even covered in tattoos. Well, except for the ones on his chest, the outlines of the black bands she can just make out from the buttoned-up white shirt that stretched  _unfairly_ _tight_  across his broad chest – her eyes widened – Oh my god,  _no_.

"Kurosaki," she greeted, neutrally, if not hastily.

"Rukia."

 _I didn't tell him my name_. She's too invisible to know off hand; she isn't a Kuchiki here and the university has more than a thousand students in this part of the campus alone, and all she can think is  _Why do you know my name?_

"Is there something you want?" she asked instead.

"Matter of fact, I do," he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Does it have something to do with you eavesdropping on my conversations, or do you just make it a habit to be nosy?"

"I like to know what goes on in my school."

She snorted quietly. "You think awfully big of yourself."

His shrug was nonchalant. "I know what I am, what I'm capable of, and what I want."

"I'm still waiting on what that has to do with me," she remarked, casting aside her pencil and crossing her arms, head tilted just so in an almost mocking acquiescence of acknowledgment, and that smirk of his got bigger.

"You'll see."

And that's what he left her with, and Nanao exhaled deeply, muttering, "Jesus" and Rukia couldn't disagree because  _what was that?_

She still didn't tell her brother.

Even when Ichigo sat beside her in class, arm propped up on the back of the bench like that cheesy move guys did when they were at the movies except there was nothing really romantic about it – if the half-lidded gaze he sent the other students says anything at all it's that they shouldn't come near them.

Rukia didn't really mind because that's what lying low meant – no connections, no friends – but she also wanted no attention, and Ichigo's reputation demanded it.

"Can you not?" she hissed.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" Rukia can tell he wanted her to say  _yes,_  so instead she retorted, "You're more annoying than anything."

He snickered.

At the end of the lecture, he took her books from her and walked her to her next class, and if she wanted to fight about it, she forgot to because they always end up talking instead:

"The Republic is a load of crap." – He was good at distracting her – She spluttered, "Are you kidding me? It's like the greatest book on leadership ever written, it's still relevant hundreds of years after the fact." – "So is Shakespeare, and the majority of his work consists of dick jokes and sword fights, pun only partially intended." – And he made her forget that she has no time for him and the inconvenience he brought with him because – without fail, he succeeds in making her laugh. "Are you actually an idiot or do you have to work at it to convince people you are?" – He rolls his shoulders and smirks again, almost warm, always affectionate. "Depends on the day, depends on the person."

It was a routine she unwittingly gets into, like having coffee with Nanao after their study sessions or day drinking wine in her pyjamas on her days off with Rangiku as she regales Rukia on her latest escapade. Ichigo with his weird puns, and love of Shakespeare and getting so easily ticked off by her to the point where the Big Bad Wolf on campus is pulling his tongue at her and teasing the hell of out her for kicks regardless of who's watching.

He was a friend in a different way that Nanao and Rangiku are, Rukia was convinced. And she may not have come here wanting friends, but they're not so bad especially him.

Ichigo with his weirdly gentlemanly like habit of opening doors for her and walking her to class and carrying her books – and so what if he has two noticeably large men following them – him – at a distance or that when their attempts to irritate each other get physical, she never tries to touch him because  _what if he got in another fight recently and I don't know, and its healing and –_

He noticed, of course, he noticed everything.

"Afraid I have cooties or something?"

"I'd be disinfecting myself constantly if that were the case," she retorted before sucking on the straw of her juice box. She'd never had a juice box before she started university, Kuchikis drank out of  _glasses_ , and Rukia certainly couldn't picture her older brother drinking out of a box. Ichigo had taken too much pleasure in that fact – that she hadn't tried it before and he was  _popping her juice box cherry_ , the nerd.

Swinging her legs from her perch on the railing of the Engineers' Building, the tallest building on campus because  _– "I like high places." – He huffed. "I hope you aren't thinking of jumping." – She snorted. "If I wanted to kill myself I'd choose something a bit more graceful than ending up like Humpty Dumpty on the sidewalk. Besides, the view's amazing." – "And you wanted to share it with me? I'm honoured," he teased, and she almost walked all the way back down just to spite him, but she couldn't because she actually really did want him to see her favourite place._

"Then why is it," he began, suddenly right in front of her, his hands branded on the railing beside her thighs, "you won't touch me?"

Slowly she detached her lips from the straw and flicked his forehead with her index finger. "Satisfied?"

"Not even a little," he murmured, nudging his forehead a little against hers, overwhelming her with the scent of cinnamon and whatever the hell guys put on to smell irresistible without trying. "Tell me."

"What's there to tell?" she challenged.

"I'm not the only with secrets."

"You don't have secrets," she retorted, mocking, "Everyone knows what you are and what you're capable of."

His agitation beginning to show in the tightening of his jaw as he asked, "So that has something to do with why you won't touch me?"

Rukia hummed, tilting her head so that they were literally nose to nose as she posed, "What if I did touch you…"

"And?"

"And you're hurt," she continued, "like the first day we met. What if I jokingly punch you, and not realize that you broke a rib or something during a fight? What if I touch you, and I hurt you?"

She expected him to snort in amusement  _as if this little slip of a girl could possibly hurt someone who ran a gang_ , but he looked to be considering her, eyes intently on hers.

And goddamn it, what was with his eyes? All intense and focused and piercing, and she can feel her blood pressure shoot up, and she demanded against the beating of her heart in her ears, "What?"

"You don't want to hurt me."

"Didn't I just say that?" she asked, rolling her eyes, mentally chanting  _play it off, play it off, play it off –_

"Rukia," he exhaled and her name is like a caress on his tongue. "You're something."

Snorting unconvincingly, she tried to push him away but did it too quickly that she teetered dangerously on the edge. Fortunately, his reflexes were faster than hers, and he held her to him, arms tight around her body, and her head tucked under his chin as she leaned against his chest.

"If it helps," he added, "I don't want to hurt you either."

And yeah, that's the day and the conversation she realized that  _shit, what have I done?_

Friends she can handle; friends, people grow out of all the time, but love? Nonononono –

But whatever it is – was – it ends. Not in the obvious way, he still sits with her, carries her books, teases her relentlessly, but now-now there's a distance. They don't go back to the Engineers' Building.

"Shimizu-san."

Rukia looked up from her lunch, her conversation with Nanao about a group project temporarily put on hold at the sound of her fake last name, and the sight of Inoue Orihime.

"Oh, hello Inoue-san," she greeted with a nod. "May I help you?"

The girl is older than Rukia by a year, and they only really have one class together – the one with Ichigo – and they worked together once or twice throughout the year for presentations, but Rukia couldn't claim to know her any more than she would any other classmate.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"About what?" Rukia asked, genuinely concerned. They had a presentation in two weeks' time, did Inoue mess up somehow because there was still time to fix it –

"About you and Kurosaki-kun," she said.

She and Nanao must have looked pretty comical, blinking in unison with mouths slightly agape before Rukia asked lamely, "I'm sorry?"

Inoue nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry you broke up."

Nanao made a sound of disbelief, but Inoue wasn't done, "We dated in high school you know, briefly, and we were just kids then and didn't know what we were doing. And I know it's only been a few days, but I hope you don't mind if we give it another try?"

What. What. What. What?

"Huh?"

She made to bow. "Of course, we don't need your permission, but I thought it would be polite to at least let you know, ne?"

Nanao's dying. Rukia can see it, and she can feel her blood pressure spike for an entirely different reason to when it's Ichigo. Luckily Inoue wasn't waiting for a reply and left immediately after, probably to that same class they both shared with him. Fuck.

" _Well_."

"Don't say anything," Rukia ordered slowly, rubbing her forehead, her lunch forgotten on her lap. "I'm still trying to process." What was that 'we' Inoue had used? If Ichigo really was getting back together with his ex, why was he still spending so much with her? When did he even have the time to –

"So you and Kurosaki, hm?"

"No!"  _It doesn't matter, I shouldn't care._  "Of course not!"

" _Sure_."

"Well apparently not," Rukia ranted, "we're hypothetically broken up and his ex-girlfriend is getting in there."

"You want to go claim your man?"

"Shut up."

But yeah, she kind of wanted to because love was an inconvenience that affected proper brain function and – her leg was jigging under the table in impatience because she can feel Inoue looking at them, biding her time for the class to end so she can – G _od, why was she so pissed it isn't like they're a thing –_

Her jiggling leg came to stop at the pressure of his hand on her knee. "Stop it."

"I can't," she hissed back, ignoring the heat flushing against her neck.

"Why the hell not?"

"I'm irritated," she blurted instead of the lie she had prepared when she inevitably messed up and let him know that Inoue had bothered her  _with something so stupid, oh my god, what have I become?_

For a few minutes as they paused to listen to what remained of the lecture before he asked above the hum of students getting up to leave around them, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

She caught sight of Inoue moving in for the kill out of the corner of her eye, and with a strained exhale and a message to whatever gods were listening to make this quick, she replied, "You'll see."

He didn't.

Without even lifting his head to acknowledge Inoue, a message on his phone distracting him, he stood. "I got to go, something came up."

Rukia blinked; the warmth of him by her side and the weight of his hand on her knee gone so fast she was left cold. "What? What's happening?"

He managed to throw her a smirk. "Don't worry, it'll be quick. I'll see you later."

Inoue's sunny smile was considerably dimmed as Rukia too stood to follow him out of the lecture hall, his long strides making her practically run to catch up to him in the hallway. "Wait, what? I'm seeing you later?"

"Yeah, don't worry I'll text you," he said, nodding at the two men that followed him about, to go ahead, and there's a frantic voice in the back of Rukia's head telling her that something is going down, something dangerous and Ichigo could –

She didn't realize that he had his lips pressed against her hair until she's engulfed by him, his tall frame acting as a buffer between her and the people around them. He wasn't even touching her, really, but Rukia could still feel the heat of him sinking into her pores, and she heard herself sigh as he pulled away.

There was a flicker in his eyes, looking almost like regret, as he murmured lowly, "I'll be back, I promise."

It was two and the morning and she was still waiting on that promise.

Her phone had been fully charged for two of those hours, and she had been pacing the length of her small apartment for about the same time. She had studied, revised and covered an entire wall in course material, telling herself that she wasn't  _waiting_ , she was  _studying_.

When there was a knock at her door, she ignored it, instead glancing at her phone.

Rangiku had been checking up on her periodically for hours so when the knock on the door became more insistent, she called out, "I'm busy."

"But I brought food."

That wasn't Rangiku.

Throwing open the door, Ichigo filled the frame – a box of pizza in hand and a bluish bruise on his jawline. "What the hell happened to you?" she demanded, searching his face.

"The line at Donatello's was brutal."

"Don't talk shit, what happened? It's midnight!"

"It's two, actually, but I'm sure you knew that," he said, sliding the box of pizza onto the centre table and sliding onto the couch gingerly. "Were you waiting for me?"

"You said you'd text," she defended, before getting right back on the topic at hand because if he thought for one second she would forget –

"I'm part of a gang," Ichigo remarked. "This," he gestured, "tends to happen."

"Oh my god," she exhaled, though she still can't seem to get enough oxygen in because her chest remains tight. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Bleeding maybe?"

"Nah, I'm starving though." Popping open the box, he added, "I wasn't in the mood to pick out the pineapples this time, hope you don't mind."

Seriously? Was this her life now?

"You give me anxiety," she declared with a huff.

"Were you worried?"

"Don't be a jerk, of course, I was."

The ass looked like he was smiling, and she pointed at him. "You better be happy because that pizza is amazing and not because you're taking pleasure in giving me grey hairs."

He raised his free hand in surrender, adding, "I won though." And she sighed, closing her eyes.

They spent a few minutes in silence, Rukia on the cusp of sleep as she heard Ichigo move about her apartment before she felt a considerable weight on her lap. Peeking out between her lashes, she said, "I swear to god, if you put the head of the person you beat on my lap, I will stab you."

"It's my head."

"Knew it felt pretty empty," she noted to his snicker.

"What happened?" she ventured to ask a beat or two later, and he sighed.

"Work, it rarely happens now that things get physical, but my dad had an old score to settle and I wasn't about to let him go alone."

"If you work, why are you studying?"

"Can't run a business without some know-how," he mused, "You would know, wouldn't you?"

She tensed, the tightness in her chest like a vice around her heart. "You looked me up, Kurosaki?"

"I wouldn't be very smart if I didn't, Kuchiki." To this she was silent, a breath she didn't know she was holding lingering in the air between them as he added musingly, "Shimizu fits you, though –  _clean, pure_  – bet you never had to do any of the dirty work yourself."

"No," she allowed, exhaling and feeling the tension ease slightly. "I never even knew, not until my parents died and my brother was in charge."

"Both of them?" he asked.

"Yeah, car accident," she recalled, "allegedly."

"Huh," he mused. "My mom was murdered when I was nine on our way home from karate practice so mine was a bit more jarring..."

"It ain't a competition, Kurosaki," she reminded, pinching his nose in retaliation.

He chuckled. "I know." A second later, "I'm sorry about your parents."

"I'm sorry about your mom," she returned.

In unison, they exhaled, and the air was clear. "What happens now?"

"I spoke to your brother."

That was unexpected. "What?"

He shrugged. "Your family is old and traditional as fuck, I figured if you had to date a gang member, the least I could do was be polite about it."

"Who said I wanted to date you?"

"Fine," he declared, and she can practically feel him roll his eyes. " _Court you,_ then."

Making an exaggerated face of disgust, she declared, "Ew."

With a snort, he sat up, cupping her neck before waiting one beat - two - just looking into her eyes with that intense focus that always made her feel like he was staring right into her soul before their noses brushed - and the deal was sealed.

Between their exchange of breaths, he murmured, "You're something, Kuchiki Rukia" and that was better than any declaration of love she could ask for, and it certainly didn't hurt that a second later, he promised, "I'll give you a city" because she was a graduate of a fancypants All Girls Boarding School for Scheming Rich Girls, and spoilt little rich girls loved grand gestures like that.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yeah," she sighed, before winking. "Nothing more romantic than a boy using Shakespeare to talk about sex." And he fought the urge to smirk wider because damn it, this girl really does have him.

 

 **Prompt:** Ichigo's POV/Gangs

.

It's not stalkerish, he told himself as he proceeded to be stalkerish. It wasn't like he was following her or anything – he had people for that – not that he sent anyone – he wasn't an idiot. He knew her brother was keeping an eye on her, Ichigo would.

Kuchiki Rukia was the only daughter of one of the oldest families in Japan, after all, and no matter how much of a frigid asshole Byakuya was, he was notoriously overprotective of her if the measures he took was any indication. Careful to keep her name out of the books, erasing any mention of her within the family to secure her safety; hell, most people didn't even know she existed.

It was the kind of tactics that were a double-edged sword for the Kuchiki heirs.

Byakuya's actions, well-intentioned as they were, held no question as to how important his only sibling was to him, any failure on his part to protect her would be devastating for the man. And Rukia? She knew nothing of her life on the other side of the law, at least not until a few years ago, from what Ichigo could gather.

A bargaining chip was a bargaining chip, and Kuchiki Rukia would be an expensive one to have.

It was why Ichigo, upon accidentally meeting her behind a Starbucks over two months ago, had resolved to find out everything about her.

Byakuya ran the family business with an iron fist in a silk glove, he rarely ever resorted to violence, preferring hostile takeovers and corporate espionage to get what he wanted; sophistication was in his DNA, and every move he made was done with precision – each move calculated, but seemingly insignificant to his opponents. To have the upper hand on him in any way would be advantageous for Ichigo's own plans to extend the influence of the Shiba family, and to her credit, Rukia wasn't making it easy for him.

She'd successfully hidden right under his nose for almost three years, after all.

Predictably, she had changed her last name in order to study Incognito; she lived off campus in a nondescript apartment; taking seemingly random classes at the university that were a blend of finance, business, political science and international diplomacy sprinkled in with electives of literature, art history, language courses in English and Mandarin, and biochemistry. She drifted in and out of lecture halls, being careful to do well enough to pass with honours, but not well enough to be of interest to any of the professors. Rukia was polite and unassuming; her persona perfectly crafted to be forgettable.

Not that she was, really.

His interest in her after finding out her identity was done with all the subtly of a star falling out of the sky.

Uryuu had literally facepalmed a desk when he found out, but it got her attention which was exactly what he needed.

The problem with a girl like Kuchiki Rukia though, was that she could smell bullshit a mile away, and just like her brother, she was cautious and wary by nature. Getting through that barrier required more from him than he thought especially as he found himself invested in her in more ways than he intended, though had been careful not to think about. Until:

"Who's that?" Yuzu asked.

His little sister liked to drop by to make sure he was taking care of himself, mostly through keeping him company, feeding everyone in his building, and taking over his couch as she leaned on his shoulder to get a better look at his laptop screen.

The screen was taken up mostly by a report he needed to look over, a merger proposal by a gang he had shaken up a few weeks earlier, while in a smaller window overlapping that, was a rare picture he found of Rukia at her fancypants All Girls Boarding School she mentioned the once.

Byakuya managed to delete most of her online presence as Kuchiki Rukia which was why this one was so surprising. Not only that he'd found it, but that she looked so different, he'd tease her about the haircut if it didn't completely blow the fact that he knew who she was.

Yuzu prodded at his cheek. "Ichi-nii."

"Nn?"

"Who is that?" she asked again, pouting at being ignored.

Passing a glance at Rukia smiling at him as he finished reading another paragraph, he replied, "Someone important."

She pursed her lips before asking a moment later, "Important like work-important or girlfriend-important?"

Rukia was a person of interest – she was an asset and investment he needed to protect – and not just because she somehow found a way to make him happy without doing much of anything. She was also someone he'd deemed important enough to risk his own security for, and who he had decided was a bargaining chip both against someone else and himself – which was neither here nor there.

Frankly, the Venn diagram tended to overlap everywhere when it involved her so Ichigo could be forgiven for uttering the single careless word that would arguably ruin him forever, "Both."

He realized too late what he had said when Yuzu, surprised, squealed in excitement before launching into a barrage of questions, "Who is she? Where did you guys meet? How long have you been together? Is she nice? Are her eyes really that colour? Does she have any siblings? Do you know if she likes animals? What does she like to eat? When are we having her over? Ichi-nii, oh my goodness, I'm so happy for you!" Two seconds later, his sister was off like a shot, her cell phone in hand as she called her twin (and likely their dad too) to share the news, leaving Ichigo alone to stare at his laptop and wonder  _what the hell did I just say._

The idea, pushed aside in some dark corner of his mind, had finally come into the light, and it grew with rapidity in his brain, taking root in every glance he sent her way, every damned song that came on the radio, every time he held her hand – in a completely non-romantic way, to open the door for her even though she was clearly used to opening it herself, to carry her books, or to help her out of her seat in his car, or –

That's when he noticed something else –

"Why is it you won't touch me?"

Removing her lips from around the straw of her juice box, she raised her hand and flicked his forehead; brow arched in amusement as she got  _real fucking close to his face that he could count every silverish glint shining like a piece of glass in the ocean of her eyes_  and said, "Satisfied?"

"Not even a little." Nudging her with his nose, their foreheads brushing past one another in some weird forehead bump-Eskimo kiss, he insisted, "Tell me."

"What's there to tell?" she challenged, voice low to match his.

"I'm not the only with secrets."

"You don't have secrets," she retorted, mocking him with his own words, "Everyone knows what you are and what you're capable of."

His jaw clenched. So that was it. Despite her bravado, she was scared of him, and she had every right to be.

Their families weren't at war with one another, but the situation couldn't exactly be termed as friendly. His own interference in her life and the danger he was likely putting her in by interacting with her at all, was proof that she had every right to not let him in – to not touch him.

Her hum cut him off as their noses brushed against one another once more as she posed, "What if I did touch you…"

"And?" he prodded.

"And you're hurt," she continued, half in a rush. "Like the first day we met. What if I jokingly punch you, and not realize that you broke a rib or something during a fight? What if I touch you, and I hurt you?"

_Un-fucking-believable._

She was…worried about him? Thinking about his health? How was she real? Who was this girl? He searched her face trying to find something-something in her eyes or in the way her lips lifted at the corner, or how her brow would furrow – to find a lie, a hidden agenda, an angle;  _something_.

Instead, she only looked uncomfortable; an embarrassed flush rising from her chest, up her neck and to her cheeks and ears, even as she demanded, "What?"

"You don't want to hurt me," he repeated, still baffled.

"Didn't I just say that?" she asked, rolling her eyes, still pretending that she didn't feel whatever he felt – and – Rukia, headstrong and furious, wanting him to know in her own denial that she cared for him.

"Rukia," he exhaled, the back of his throat tickling with a strange urge to laugh because  _how did I find someone like you?_  "You're something."

Snorting unconvincingly, she tried to push him away, but instead, she teetered dangerously on the edge of the railing she was sitting on. Fortunately, his reflexes were faster and he held her to him, arms tight around her body, and her head tucked under his chin as she leaned against his chest.

From over her shoulder, at the bottom floor of the Engineer's Building, he saw them – and they saw him. Byakuya's security detail for his sister.

Ichigo tightened his arms around her. "If it helps, I don't want to hurt you either."

A car picked him up after they separated at Rukongai with Ichigo waving down his men to let him go alone.

Perhaps it was a courtesy that would get him killed, well; no one could ever say he wasn't polite, and at least if he did die, he'd be able to blame it on that.

For now, Byakuya's men weren't there to intimidate him, only bring him in, though a red head – likely Byakuya's general – glared at him, hand poised over where his gun was in warning, clearly lacking the professionalism of the rest of the Kuchiki forces. Ichigo snorted.

Despite the traditionalism known to be held dear to the old families, Byakuya's home was surprisingly modern; the only thing Ichigo had taken note of was the koi pond and Japanese garden just outside Byakuya's personal office where he waited for all of five minutes before he was ordered to come in – like he was some disobedient school boy that needed a scolding from his headmaster.

"Kurosaki."

"Byakuya." Just like his sister, the man was displeased with the familiarity, unlike Rukia, there was no surprise that coloured his expression. The man was the most constipated statue of ice Ichigo had ever met.

"Renji, leave us."

The redhead that kept trying to kill him by glaring nodded and departed, leaving the two men alone to silence as if that alone was intimidation enough, and if he were a lesser man, it might have been.

"You know why you're here, Kurosaki."

"I do."

"You found my sister and I assume it wasn't without reason," he continued levelly, his expression carefully blank.

"You assume correctly," Ichigo acknowledged.

"So what is it that you want, Kurosaki?"

"I'm sure you know."

"A takeover of territory," Byakuya supplied, pausing for a moment as if cataloging the ones he was willing to part with until he surprised Ichigo by ordering, "Name it."

"Any of them?"

"So long as you stay away from my sister; any of them will do. Though, I can't promise you'll have it for long."

Clearly, Rukia meant a lot to him.  _Can't say I don't understand that_  he thought, pretending to consider, before, "I have a question first: What does Rukia get?"

If he was displeased by how easily he said her name, Byakuya didn't show it. "If you want her territories, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. We aren't running the family business as two entities."

"So she's being cut out?" It wasn't exactly a surprise, Yuzu was entirely too soft for the business' dealings, and Karin's investment in it was limited by her own request, but he hadn't expected Rukia to be severed so completely –

"She's running with me, not separately."

"What?"

"I'm sure you're aware how things have changed for the old families, we have a few undesirables amongst us."

"Aizen still fighting for his presumed place on the throne?" Ichigo posed, and to his credit, Byakuya echoed his sarcasm, "Precisely."

After another moment's contemplation, the older man continued, "I'm sure you've noticed the amount of security around my sister, and further to that, the amount of trust I have in her considering you've managed to get as close as you have." Another pause. "Rukia is all I have left in this world in terms of true family, in terms of people I trust completely, of people I'd kill for without question. And though I know she would never knowingly betray me, Aizen has been known to twist even the most unshakeable of people, inspire loyalty where it is undeserved. I will not risk making an enemy out of my only sister."

"So you want to solidify your place as the Head so when Rukia is ready, you'll run your empire together as a unit," Ichigo thought aloud.

"Aizen can't divide and conquer if there is no divide."

"Fair." The Shiba family was of the same mind, at least now, letting Ichigo take the lead following his father's decision to retire, with his cousins, Kukaku and Uryuu, working together jointly over the vast territory of the Shiba-Ishida alliance.

"So if you're hoping to get Rukia's share of the empire, she doesn't have any because what is mine is hers."

"And if I wanted all that is yours?"

"Failure to establish control is the fastest way to lose it," Byakuya reminded. "How would you do it in multiple places at once, Kurosaki?"

"With her by my side." When the man's expression hardened, Ichigo continued, "I want Aizen's territory."

"That isn't mine to give."

"But it is mine to take."

He cocked his head slightly, a single brow raising just enough to brush his hairline as he observed, "You want my help."

"I do."

"Why not just claim a territory I can give you?"

"Because" he exhaled. "I do want Rukia by my side, and if that means proving to you that I can give her a city, then that's what I'll do."

The silence stretched, until he affirmed, "You want a merger."

"It would give the Shiba more territory and you would have a stronger force on your side when inevitably, Aizen worms his way into the other crime families and makes a play for one of yours. We'd all win."

"The distribution of men within the territories?"

"Spread evenly throughout the city," Ichigo smirked. "We'd even be able to give everyone proper holidays off."

Byakuya's exhale sounded like a snort before he allowed, "A merger would be beneficial, but how much of it would hinge on bartering my sister to you?"

"None of it." He shrugged. "I'm already hers." When Byakuya finally deigned to show some semblance of surprise, Ichigo shrugged. "What she'll do with me is up to her."

He hadn't underestimated the work it would take to rip one of Aizen's territories away from him, and even with the extra men, collaborating with someone who was just as much of an alpha was new for him, and certainly, it put him on edge when comparing his lack of experience against Byakuya's.

Still, the work was almost done, and all that was left was the execution which they had both agreed would amount to chipping away at Aizen's territory of Hueco Mundo until they reached the epicenter. A turf war was out of the question, and while Ichigo could do waiting games and using more subtle tactics, it made him antsy, and it showed despite himself.

"You're grumpier than usual lately."

"You're as rude always," he retorted, not bothering to turn around until the smell of food woke his stomach, reminding him that  _Yuzu fed you just before she left – two weeks ago._

Rukia snorted. "Imagine that." She sat down on the empty chair less than a few feet across from him, pizza box in hand, and at the lifting of his brows in surprise, she irrelevantly informed, "I bought food."

Already reaching into the box after she slid it open, he wrinkled his nose, eyeing the slice he was able to snag. "Pineapples, really?"

"Beggars can't be choosers," she reminded, around the mouthful she had taken.

"You know I hate them," he complained, picking them off and flicking them at the open box, though Rukia had immediately pilfered them for herself.

"Who said I bought this pizza for you?" she asked, snickering. "You're the rude one who just invited himself to it."

"Rukia," he began with a dramatic sigh, "moon of my life, thank you for providing me with sustenance in my time of mock exams, you're an angel and I adore you."

With a hum of amusement, she lifted her brows. "That's twenty sarcasm points, Khal, I approve."

"I aim to please."

"Though, I am going to have to deduct points for the corn."

"I can do a scene from Romeo and Juliet if it pleases the lady." She made a 'go on' hand motion and clearing his throat, he recited, "'Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.'"

"It's two in the afternoon, genius."

Dusting his hands clean, he began anew, "My dear love." He picked her ankles up off the table that separated them, dropping her feet on his lap instead. "the purchase is made, the fruits are to ensue; the profit's yet to come 'tween me and you'."

She pointed at him with her slice of pizza. "That's from Othello."

"A girl who knows her Shakespeare? Rukia, you're out for my heart."

"Yeah," she sighed, before winking. "Nothing more romantic than a boy using Shakespeare to talk about sex." And he fought the urge to smirk wider because damn it, this girl really does have him.

"I could do a sonnet," he proposed, wiggling his brows.

"I have no doubt that you could," she declared, laughing as he cleared his throat again.

"'My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun –'"

"Oh," Rukia interjected, "that's because you're the ginger one."

"You're not allowed to remix Shakespeare."

"Then you can't use him to disturb my ladylike sensibilities," she informed, preening in demonstration, and his cheeks really were starting to hurt a little from the effort of not smiling at her like an idiot.

"Me? Never, do you even know the rest of the sonnet?"

"Oh yeah," she replied with a solemn nod, a rebellious strand of black hair falling over her eyes as she met his gaze mischievously, "more sex. Nice, Ichigo, I know what you're deprived of."

He made a sound of amusement just as his phone buzzed in his pants' pocket. "You have no idea." With a quick glance –  _It's time_  – he said, "Have to go."

"Oh, so now I'm done feeding you, you've gone to take care of the other problem?"

"With who?" He snorted. "I'm still trying to get you to touch me on your own." Sliding her feet off his lap and standing, he grabbed his jacket and leaned over to drape the leather over her shoulders. He allowed his expression to soften just a bit as he looked down at her. Resting his hands against the armrests of her chair, Ichigo informed, "I won't be back in time for you to steal my jacket like you usually do, so I'm gonna skip that part and just let you have it. It's more efficient, and you won't be at risk of pneumonia."

There was a blush colouring her cheeks even as she petulantly disagreed, "I'm warm enough."

"Now."

Rolling her eyes, she flicked his forehead with her finger. "Get out of here."

"'Parting is such sweet sorrow'."

To torture him more, because all she ever did was torture him, really – she got so close their noses brushed and he could kiss her, right now and that would be it. He wasn't so great with words and talking about feelings - actions were undeniable, and all he had to do was tilt his head  _just a little -_

Until she withdrew just enough to remark, "I wouldn't know, you haven't left yet."

Any retort he could have had was interrupted by another buzz of his phone.

Damn it.

"I'm gonna get you back for that," he informed as he withdrew to his full height.

"I look forward to it." Ichigo shook his head with a chuckle, took exactly three steps before she added, "Try not to break anything this time, how you expect me to hold your hand when it's broken is beyond me."

Raising the aforementioned limb that had just finished healing in acknowledgment, the same thought crossed his mind when it brought up Kuchiki Rukia:  _This girl was something._

Unfortunately, Ichigo couldn't keep that promise.

Well, the first two times he did, but the third time he wasn't so lucky.

He'd blame it on that kiss they shared on her couch after clearing the air – about her, her brother, the family business.

They always tell you never to go into a job distracted, but how they hell was he not supposed to when the mission he got called for took him out of the bed he had been co-sleeping in with her (seriously, they were sleeping, Jesus, Byakuya would leave him for dead in a ditch somewhere with nothing to his name otherwise; though admittedly, he wouldn't put it past the bastard to cockblock him on purpose).

In any case, most girls would be at their boyfriends' side, doting and devoted to their every need, when they found out they were injured. Rukia was not most girlfriends –  _wait, did I even ask her to be my girlfriend? Did courting automatically make that a thing or…? Shit, I knew I'd be bad at this_.

"You're pissed at me."

"No," she said, in a tone that suggested otherwise.

"Then why are you standing so far away?" Goddamnit, was that as whiny as I think it sounded?

"Because you're in a hospital bed and whatever you have might be contagious."

"I broke a hand," he reminded with a furrowed brow.

"I meant the stupidity." When he could only scowl in displeasure, Rukia exhaled; her expression carefully calm even as she set her eyes on him in a look that could freeze his sorry ass to the wall. And he gulped because, damn it, he may have been under fire for almost an hour, fought his way through twelve men and fallen off a three story building onto someone's windshield on the second day on the job, but Rukia had obviously mastered Looks could Kill, and other dead stares that can make people feel insignificant.

Well, shit. She's really pissed off now.

"What the hell happened to you? Do I even want to know? You were gone for nine days without saying anything, and then I get a call that you're here – in the hospital."

"Things got crazy with work -"

"And you couldn't even call me? Shoot me a text? Nine days, Ichigo." She was pacing now. "You could have been dead for all I know! Would I have even known if something like that happened? Or would I just be around waiting for the next year until I realized hmm, maybe that asshole isn't coming back? And all that time, there I was thinking you were full of shit when in actuality – you'd be dead!"

"Now hold on a second. You'd wait a year before moving on?"

Despite the scowl, the flush on her cheeks couldn't be dissipated and she scoffed, arms crossed. "You're an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot."

"That's debatable." The slight tug at the corner of her lips was sign enough of her defeat, and it seemed the wider his smirk got, the more embarrassed she got, to the point where she was avoiding his eyes and spoke to the wall, "I'm glad you aren't dead."

"I'm sorry," he teased, "I can't hear you, gunshots are murder on your hearing."

Turning to him resolutely, an expression that was equal parts sweetly bashful and annoyed gracing her features, she repeated, "I'm glad you aren't dead, Kurosaki."

He made a slight hiss of disappointment. "I'm not hearing you, Rukia."

She took a step closer, rolling her eyes as she did so. "Kurosaki -"

"No, no, still too far," Ichigo dismissed, "what, are you scared of the big bad gang banger, Kuchiki?"

That seemed to do the trick; she was at his throat now – literally – she had a fistful of the hospital gown bunched under his chin. "I will kick your ass if you ever do that to me again."

"The bone breaking or the hospital visits? Because I can't guarantee either."

"Call me," she entreated voice surprisingly soft. "I don't care if you just want to tell me what you had for lunch. Just…do it, okay?"

"Got it," he agreed, his free-uninjured arm snaking around her waist. "I actually haven't eaten anything. Hospital food is crap."

Rolling her eyes, Rukia let go of his gown to flick his forehead. "There's a gift basket right there."

"It's from Inoue," he pointed out, "God knows why she keeps sending me shit, or who even told her where I was; but if you wanted me to die, I'd thought you'd be kinder."

"How does she know, anyway?" she asked, casual as can be. "She mentioned you guys dated a few years back."

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "If you can call it that, it wasn't for more than a few days. She drove me insane, possessive and jealous as hell for no reason, she even accused me of cheating on her with my sister –  _my sister_." Karin had immediately retaliated with a message that Ichigo would've had framed and sent to Inoue to keep as a memento if it were up to him. Of course, Yuzu had talked him out of that. Speaking of, "My other sister was too nice to ignore her, though she isn't beyond lying about my whereabouts. I guess she was too stressed to lie to Inoue about this when she asked." Gaze flickering down to hers, he realized that Rukia may have been unnecessary bothered by his too-short-to-call-it-a-relationship and began with furrowed brows, "Is she bothering you because I could -"

"'Could' nothing, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. I just wanted to find out what the extent of Inoue's claim on you was," Rukia informed smartly, still managing to look superior even as he lifted her slightly to seat her comfortably on his lap.

"'Claim on me'?" he repeated, brows raised.

"Ichigo," she began slowly, smoothing out the hospital gown she had crumpled at his neck before meeting his eyes, matching smirk to his in place. "I may have an older brother, but I'm the youngest child; I don't do sharing."

"So I guess offering you your own city was a good call then, huh?"

"Well, it wasn't the wrong one."

"Duly noted," he sagely remarked.

Sounding somewhat sympathetic and amused, she informed him, "If you thought I'd be less possessive and jealous of a girlfriend than Inoue, you have another thing coming."

He latched on to just the right bit, "Oh, you're my girlfriend. That's a relief."

"What?" Rukia raised a brow. "Do you always offer cities to every girl you sometimes share a bed with?"

"Excuse me; I intend to make that arrangement permanent."

"You and what army?" she challenged.

He hitched her closer until she was practically on his chest, noses brushing and mischievous grin just inches away from her suddenly breathless lips. "Who needs an army when I've got the queen right here?"

 


End file.
